Yesterday, Hillary Clinton spoke at Tina Brown's Women in the World summit, alongside IMF chief Christine Lagarde. The moderator asked each to reflect on whether there was still "a double standard in the media about how we talk about women in public life." Clinton responded that “There is a double standard, obviously. We have all either experienced it or at the very least seen it. And there is a deep set of cultural psychological views that are manifest through this double standard.” She went on to talk about the differences she's seen in male and female responses in the workplace--how young women always say "do you think I'm ready?" when given new responsibilities, while young men simply say "when do I start?" She talked about the self-doubt women inevitably carry with them, something men don't do. She talked about the criticism that women also inevitably face. During the discussion, as she often has of late, she invoked the words of Eleanor Roosevelt: "Every woman in public life needs to develop skin as tough as rhinoceros hide."
I've been thinking a lot lately about that double standard, so her words particularly resonated with me. I've long worked in male-dominated fields. I've often been the only woman at the table. I've "leaned in" for so long that I don't know any other way. I know just what Sheryl Sandberg means when she talks about women pulling themselves out of the game before it's even started. But even when you lean in, you work hard, you excel at your job, you are qualitatively and quantitatively better than the men by any measurable standard--by EVERY measurable standard, you still have to deal with that double standard. . .the one that says that, despite all of the evidence, you really aren't equal, because you are just a woman.
My current boss is a woman, and she's also good at her job. And she reinforces that double standard regularly. I've watched as men are offered business trips traveling to interesting places. . .while I and other women have been offered only assignments in town. I suspect that she thinks she is being kind, because she knows I have young kids. But shouldn't women get offered the assignments? Shouldn't we be allowed a say in whether we want to travel? She has told multiple women in my office that we need to work on our "tone" in our emails--that we are too direct. I have to wonder if she's ever given that advice to a man. I recently heard her refer to me as a "no nonsense" person. What does that mean, exactly. . .and would anyone ever say that about a man?
Of course, I play the game. I take the assignments I get, without complaint, and try to do them well. I take the criticism graciously, and promise to try to do better. I let the description roll of my shoulders. Because really, what else is there to do? I once had a very successful female politician tell me, "Look, does sexism exist out there? You bet. But does talking about it help? Not really. You just have to go out there and do your job." And I think that's right. Jumping up and down about it doesn't help.
It sure would be nice, though, if I didn't have to be gracious and navigate around these issues. It sure would be nice if I didn't need rhinoceros hide. It sure would be nice to just be able to go to work, do my job well, and be recognized for it. . .like a man. And I hope and pray that we can create a more enlightened and equal workplace for these wonderful daughters I am raising, because they deserve so much better than this. We may have come a long way, baby, but it's not nearly far enough.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Two Stories
One of the things I love about Facebook is that I'm "friends" with a pile of women I went to high school with. They aren't people I talk to in "real life," but it's been nice to reconnect virtually, to see where they are and what they are up to. I went to high school in a rural area, where some girls were married and already had kids by the time graduation rolled around, so it was to my great surprise that I discovered a large number of women had very young children, the same ages of my children. I often feel like such a late bloomer, but it turns out that many of us were.
I was heartbroken to see a few weeks ago that one woman had lost her 5 year old daughter to a virus. One day she was there, and the next she was not--it happened ridiculously fast. I can't even imagine what she is going through. She's been posting gorgeous pictures of herself and her daughter, in happier times. I haven't seen this woman since we were 17, 18 years old, haven't kept in touch with her. We're in our 40's now. Seeing these pictures of her, as an adult, makes me feel in some way like I'm looking at her mother. She's the girl I knew, but so much older. In my head, she's still the giggly cheerleader who drinks too much and fools around with boys she shouldn't. She is carefree. On my screen, she is middle-aged, heavy with responsibility, and she is so very sad. I think often about the girl she was back then, with not a care in the world. That girl couldn't have imagined this was where life would take her. And that little girl in the photos--a mighty sprite, full of laughter and energy. . .it's so hard to imagine that she's been ripped from her mother, her family. My heart just breaks. I wrap my arms tightly around Miss M when I think of this poor woman, and don't even want to think of such a possibility.
Then this week, another awful story. An acquaintance here had a c-section to deliver her first child. The baby is healthy and home. The mother, however, developed a coagulation problem during the surgery. She's in critical condition, and they are having trouble getting things problem under control. This is supposed to be a happy time for this new family, and instead she's in the hospital fighting for her life. I so very much hope for them that this story has a happy ending, that a scary beginning is quickly left behind in a pile of dirty diapers and teething and cheerful morning feedings.
Life feels so fragile to me right now. Everything you wish for and hope for and wait for can come, only to disappear again in an instant. It's such a reminder to hold tight and love while you can.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
601. . .And SB's Tests
I just opened Blogger, and it informed me that I have drafted 600 posts. It's hard to believe I started blogging so many years ago. Time really has been flying by since we started trying to have kids.
But that's not what I wanted to blog about. I want to note the milestone, but I really came here to talk about potential neural tube defects.
When we went for SB's 2nd year checkup, I pointed out a few things that have been bothering her/me. One is a bump on her upper back, just between her shoulders on her spine. There is one vertebrae that sticks out more than the others. It's always been this way, but it's become more noticeable lately. Since she was born, the doctors have said it was normal. But this time, the doctor referred us out for consultation.
The second thing was that she plays with her belly button a lot, and complains that it hurts. It's a bit of an outie, and I was worried about a hernia.
T. took her to the referral appointment with a pediatric surgeon about two weeks ago, just before the plague struck us. That doctor recommended that we do ultrasounds of her back and abdomen, to determine if there were a neural tube defect. At which point, I nearly lost my shit.
I took my vitamins regularly. We had level 4 zillion ultrasounds at a fancy private European hospital. And a handful of doctors have seen her across two continents over the last two years, and assured us that everything looked normal. So, neural tube defect? Really? Also, after the crazy shitstorm of the last six months, we really didn't need that.
It took us forever to get the tests scheduled. They finally said they could do them, the day she was diagnosed with Coxsackie. We instead scheduled them for yesterday, instead, figuring no one wanted a contagious kid in their space. They booked them for 2:30 and 2:50pm, and instructed me to keep her from eating for 6 hours beforehand (great!).
We arrived promptly yesterday, only to discover that the hospital had moved our appointment back by an hour. Let me tell you, that extra hour we spent waiting, with a hungry 2 year old, was something special that the entire waiting room enjoyed immensely. But for the tests, she was a doll. She let them put the ultrasound goo on her, and she played with it herself. She even got so into it that she asked the doctor if she could use the ultrasound wand on herself. He let her do it with him, and I think he was really tickled that she was so into it. He kept telling me how nice she was, and told her that she was going to be a doctor when she grew up. She fussed a bit here and there, but let him do everything he needed.
Anyway, the end result, after all of the drama, was that she is completely normal, and they didn't see anything wrong at all. The back is just the way she's formed, and the stomach is normal. Now I just have to keep her from playing with it and irritating it.
I am WIPED, physically from all of the night waking with two sick kids, and mentally from. . .well, everything. Hopefully, the rotten stuff is behind us, and we can have a nice, long, happy, safe, positive stretch of living.
But that's not what I wanted to blog about. I want to note the milestone, but I really came here to talk about potential neural tube defects.
When we went for SB's 2nd year checkup, I pointed out a few things that have been bothering her/me. One is a bump on her upper back, just between her shoulders on her spine. There is one vertebrae that sticks out more than the others. It's always been this way, but it's become more noticeable lately. Since she was born, the doctors have said it was normal. But this time, the doctor referred us out for consultation.
The second thing was that she plays with her belly button a lot, and complains that it hurts. It's a bit of an outie, and I was worried about a hernia.
T. took her to the referral appointment with a pediatric surgeon about two weeks ago, just before the plague struck us. That doctor recommended that we do ultrasounds of her back and abdomen, to determine if there were a neural tube defect. At which point, I nearly lost my shit.
I took my vitamins regularly. We had level 4 zillion ultrasounds at a fancy private European hospital. And a handful of doctors have seen her across two continents over the last two years, and assured us that everything looked normal. So, neural tube defect? Really? Also, after the crazy shitstorm of the last six months, we really didn't need that.
It took us forever to get the tests scheduled. They finally said they could do them, the day she was diagnosed with Coxsackie. We instead scheduled them for yesterday, instead, figuring no one wanted a contagious kid in their space. They booked them for 2:30 and 2:50pm, and instructed me to keep her from eating for 6 hours beforehand (great!).
We arrived promptly yesterday, only to discover that the hospital had moved our appointment back by an hour. Let me tell you, that extra hour we spent waiting, with a hungry 2 year old, was something special that the entire waiting room enjoyed immensely. But for the tests, she was a doll. She let them put the ultrasound goo on her, and she played with it herself. She even got so into it that she asked the doctor if she could use the ultrasound wand on herself. He let her do it with him, and I think he was really tickled that she was so into it. He kept telling me how nice she was, and told her that she was going to be a doctor when she grew up. She fussed a bit here and there, but let him do everything he needed.
Anyway, the end result, after all of the drama, was that she is completely normal, and they didn't see anything wrong at all. The back is just the way she's formed, and the stomach is normal. Now I just have to keep her from playing with it and irritating it.
I am WIPED, physically from all of the night waking with two sick kids, and mentally from. . .well, everything. Hopefully, the rotten stuff is behind us, and we can have a nice, long, happy, safe, positive stretch of living.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
And. . .A Plague Is Upon Us
Adults aren't supposed to get the Coxsackie virus. So on Thursday afternoon, when my head felt like it was going to split in half and my brain felt warm and mushy and my skin felt like it was going to jump out of itself, or at least out of my shirt, and my throat hurt, and my glands were swollen, and I had a suspicious spot on my right hand, I was PRETTTTTY sure I had it. But yesterday morning when I saw the nurse practitioner, she laughed at me and said she thought I was "just the mother of two sick kids." I was kind of offended, actually. Did she think I was sympathy sick?
She's not my usual doctor, but rather filling in for someone on maternity leave. She was nice enough, but I don't event think she seriously considered that I might have it. Because, adults don't get it. That's what she told me.
And yet, somehow I still woke up with little tiny sore spots on my feet and hands. There aren't that many of them, and they aren't very big. But they are very sore. It feels like I burned my hand (and feet!) on a hot pan by accident. . .in a bunch of spots. Sigh. Suckage.
Miss M is hacking up a storm, but seems better. She never really got the full on rash. SB got a massive rash (face, hands, feet, arms, legs, and diaper area), but it's starting to clear (we are 5 days out from when the rash appeared). She's been acting normal. Actually, they both have. In fact, a little too normal. They are super hyper and bouncing off the walls, because they have not been outside in 5 days. We didn't want them to infect anyone else, though. Boy, do they need to play in the park!
I'm letting them watch a movie right now on Netflix because I just can't take the utter chaos of quarantined children any longer. The Incredibles is okay for toddlers, right???
She's not my usual doctor, but rather filling in for someone on maternity leave. She was nice enough, but I don't event think she seriously considered that I might have it. Because, adults don't get it. That's what she told me.
And yet, somehow I still woke up with little tiny sore spots on my feet and hands. There aren't that many of them, and they aren't very big. But they are very sore. It feels like I burned my hand (and feet!) on a hot pan by accident. . .in a bunch of spots. Sigh. Suckage.
Miss M is hacking up a storm, but seems better. She never really got the full on rash. SB got a massive rash (face, hands, feet, arms, legs, and diaper area), but it's starting to clear (we are 5 days out from when the rash appeared). She's been acting normal. Actually, they both have. In fact, a little too normal. They are super hyper and bouncing off the walls, because they have not been outside in 5 days. We didn't want them to infect anyone else, though. Boy, do they need to play in the park!
I'm letting them watch a movie right now on Netflix because I just can't take the utter chaos of quarantined children any longer. The Incredibles is okay for toddlers, right???
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
And The Diagnosis Is. . .
Coxsackie virus, aka hand, foot and mouth. Apparently, one of the preschools here has a massive outbreak. Not coincidentally, I'm sure, we have many friends and acquaintances who send their kids there. We're not sure yet exactly who SB contracted it from (our other friend indeed had impetigo last week), but since there seems to be a big outbreak going on in our area, it could have been anyone. Since we did a lot of socializing this weekend (mostly BEFORE she had any symptoms, but while she was likely contagious), I've warned as many people as I could. Now I am just keeping my fingers crossed that our friends' kids stay well.
I talked with one father who said "you know, my daughter has had a weird rash for three days now." Since my daughter played with her on Saturday, then showed symptoms on Monday, I don't think she could have given it to SB, but yikes. This outbreak could be HUGE!
There isn't any treatment, other than Tylenol. It's a relief that we can give it to her, though. Overnight she developed tiny spots all over her hands, and she kept waking up crying and telling us how much her face and hands hurt her. I didn't want to give her anything, since we weren't entirely sure what we were dealing with. But after a quick trip to the doctor this morning and a quick diagnosis, we now know. A dose of Tylenol later, she's a happy girl again, and tearing around the house. Unlike some kids, she has no fever. So, we have to quarantine her for about a week (no park! argh! Good thing we bought that bouncy house for her birthday), and it should pass in about that time.
Of course, the big question is whether poor Miss M will get it. She came home with a fever today, which COULD be a sign she is coming down with the virus. But it so far seems more like a cold, and she woke frequently last night due to SB's crying. Fingers crossed that she doesn't get it!
I talked with one father who said "you know, my daughter has had a weird rash for three days now." Since my daughter played with her on Saturday, then showed symptoms on Monday, I don't think she could have given it to SB, but yikes. This outbreak could be HUGE!
There isn't any treatment, other than Tylenol. It's a relief that we can give it to her, though. Overnight she developed tiny spots all over her hands, and she kept waking up crying and telling us how much her face and hands hurt her. I didn't want to give her anything, since we weren't entirely sure what we were dealing with. But after a quick trip to the doctor this morning and a quick diagnosis, we now know. A dose of Tylenol later, she's a happy girl again, and tearing around the house. Unlike some kids, she has no fever. So, we have to quarantine her for about a week (no park! argh! Good thing we bought that bouncy house for her birthday), and it should pass in about that time.
Of course, the big question is whether poor Miss M will get it. She came home with a fever today, which COULD be a sign she is coming down with the virus. But it so far seems more like a cold, and she woke frequently last night due to SB's crying. Fingers crossed that she doesn't get it!
Monday, March 24, 2014
Oh Crap!
We had the nicest weekend. There wasn't anything particularly special about it. . .just the simple pleasures of ordinary family life with two awesome little people. We did a pile of errands: grocery shopping at the massive open air market that I love to go to; searching out fabric stores to try to track down the perfect fabric for Anna and Elsa costumes for the girls (Disney is sold out, and the kids desperately want them for our upcoming vacation, so we are making them); finally buying the gym shorts that go with Miss M's school uniform (because I am a bad parent, we've been sending her to school in--GASP!--her school uniform on gym days, which consists of. . .gym pants, a tshirt, and a windbreaker. The horror of not having gym shorts!); playing in the park; long walks; painting; etc, etc. We had a birthday party yesterday, where SB ran around an played for a bit, then cuddled with me for the rest of the party. She spent a lot of time cuddling with me this weekend, which was so lovely, from my perspective. I can't remember the last time she cuddled so much.
I should have known then that something was wrong. She is active and outgoing, so cuddling all weekend, including at a birthday party that featured a bouncy house definitely seemed out of character, but I just chalked it up to the lack of long naps. It didn't occur to me that she might be sick. Sigh. And then this morning, she woke up with a rash under her bottom lip...which we just chalked up to some combination of teething/drooling/strawberry eating/binky sucking the night before.
We had a bunch of friends for dinner tonight with their kids. We warned them all beforehand that she had this weird unidentified rash, but some of them apparently didn't get the message, and most came despite receiving it. And of course, the first to arrive were a pair of teachers, who looked at poor SB and both immediately said "impetigo!" And then the second family arrived, and said their youngest had it last week.
So apparently, impetigo is going around, and I had no idea what it was until this evening. And apparently it's highly contagious. And SB has been around several dozen children this weekend. Which either means that one of them gave it to her, or she caught it from one. I will feel terrible if she gave it to any of them. It has an incubation period of one to ten days, depending on which type it is, so there's a pretty big window. Oh, and she poked me in the eye tonight. I am hoping I don't catch it, too. Argh. My poor baby. We kept her confined to her high chair while all her friends were playing, then put her to bed early. She was a good sport about it, but I know she really wanted to play with the other kids. Hopefully we'll get a quick diagnosis in the morning when we see the doctor, an easy time with the medication, and a quick recovery.
I should have known then that something was wrong. She is active and outgoing, so cuddling all weekend, including at a birthday party that featured a bouncy house definitely seemed out of character, but I just chalked it up to the lack of long naps. It didn't occur to me that she might be sick. Sigh. And then this morning, she woke up with a rash under her bottom lip...which we just chalked up to some combination of teething/drooling/strawberry eating/binky sucking the night before.
We had a bunch of friends for dinner tonight with their kids. We warned them all beforehand that she had this weird unidentified rash, but some of them apparently didn't get the message, and most came despite receiving it. And of course, the first to arrive were a pair of teachers, who looked at poor SB and both immediately said "impetigo!" And then the second family arrived, and said their youngest had it last week.
So apparently, impetigo is going around, and I had no idea what it was until this evening. And apparently it's highly contagious. And SB has been around several dozen children this weekend. Which either means that one of them gave it to her, or she caught it from one. I will feel terrible if she gave it to any of them. It has an incubation period of one to ten days, depending on which type it is, so there's a pretty big window. Oh, and she poked me in the eye tonight. I am hoping I don't catch it, too. Argh. My poor baby. We kept her confined to her high chair while all her friends were playing, then put her to bed early. She was a good sport about it, but I know she really wanted to play with the other kids. Hopefully we'll get a quick diagnosis in the morning when we see the doctor, an easy time with the medication, and a quick recovery.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
The Birthday Party
Despite all of my misgivings about inviting a million people to our house, the birthday party was perfect. Yes, everyone came (55 people!). Yes, the house was full. But you know what? I worried too much. It wasn't too full. It wasn't too chaotic. It was just right.
I had ordered Pooh decals, and used them to decorate the walls. We used 4 dozen green balloons (two shades!) and paper packaging from boxes we'd received to craft a giant tree the middle of our living room to recreate the Hundred Acre Wood. We set up the bouncy castle (Tigger's Bounce House!) in the living room, and art projects in the dining room (create your own Pooh headband, and face painting like Pooh). There were snacks. A big meal (hot dogs and homemade mac and cheese for the little ones; a ham, fruit salad, and pesto pasta salad for the big ones). Chocolate cupcakes (SB's favorite) and a chocolate cake, both decorated like beehives (honey!). I successfully made buttercream icing. I unsuccessfully made the cupcakes the first time (ugh. . .baking at altitude. . .they exploded). But you know what? I figured out what further adjustments I needed to make the second time around to make the recipe work at altitude, and it all worked out.
It was just. . .fun. It was the perfect birthday party for a two year old. We celebrated her, she had a blast, and all of our friends (and grandma and grandpa) were here to celebrate with us. It was just really, really nice.
It's so easy to get caught in the trap of overthinking birthdays. It's not that I wanted to outdo anyone else. But I wanted SB to have a good birthday, and I wanted it to be special. And it was, for all of the right reasons. We did it OUR way, and in the end, THAT was what made it work, and what made it special. I am so, so glad that we went ahead and had it at home, and that I was able to do the things that I wanted to do. It was personal, and it was. . .just really perfect. It made all of us really happy.
I had ordered Pooh decals, and used them to decorate the walls. We used 4 dozen green balloons (two shades!) and paper packaging from boxes we'd received to craft a giant tree the middle of our living room to recreate the Hundred Acre Wood. We set up the bouncy castle (Tigger's Bounce House!) in the living room, and art projects in the dining room (create your own Pooh headband, and face painting like Pooh). There were snacks. A big meal (hot dogs and homemade mac and cheese for the little ones; a ham, fruit salad, and pesto pasta salad for the big ones). Chocolate cupcakes (SB's favorite) and a chocolate cake, both decorated like beehives (honey!). I successfully made buttercream icing. I unsuccessfully made the cupcakes the first time (ugh. . .baking at altitude. . .they exploded). But you know what? I figured out what further adjustments I needed to make the second time around to make the recipe work at altitude, and it all worked out.
It was just. . .fun. It was the perfect birthday party for a two year old. We celebrated her, she had a blast, and all of our friends (and grandma and grandpa) were here to celebrate with us. It was just really, really nice.
It's so easy to get caught in the trap of overthinking birthdays. It's not that I wanted to outdo anyone else. But I wanted SB to have a good birthday, and I wanted it to be special. And it was, for all of the right reasons. We did it OUR way, and in the end, THAT was what made it work, and what made it special. I am so, so glad that we went ahead and had it at home, and that I was able to do the things that I wanted to do. It was personal, and it was. . .just really perfect. It made all of us really happy.
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